


When You Hold Me Like That

by hellhoundsprey



Series: ficlet prompts [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 15:27:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7058119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellhoundsprey/pseuds/hellhoundsprey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: wincest x bondage<br/>Set in s1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Hold Me Like That

To be fair: if the owner of this shithole wanted to keep their guests from wrecking the rooms, they should be raising their deposit rate (remarkably). It's welcome though, here and now, because the bed is just sturdy enough. If that one breaks, there's another one. Two queens - sly smile - credit card. Old habits die hard.

"Wriggle that hand for me, Sammy."

And Sam does, imagines the veins on his arms bulging out over the moving muscles.

"You good?"

Dizzy smile and, "Yeah," as if Dean ever needed to ask anymore at this point, as if he still were at the level where stupid mistakes do happen.

"Good."

Air presses out of Sam's lungs under the force of Dean's hand between his shoulder blades, and Sam actually gasps for the moment there is no space in his caught between brother and the dig of mattress springs chest. The bed tips, left first, right next, and Sam's body wants to lunge backwards right into Dean's lap where he heard the buttons being popped earlier, where he feels what has always been their favorite way of entertainment. At least _this_ is free, Dean would say, and Sam would punch him for that later when he was in the state for that again.

The thing with the belts came later, though. Somewhere between Sammy becoming Sam and between family and Stanford; between _oh god won't you hold the fuck still_ and _what're you gonna do now, huh_. When belts became obsolete ( _chest like a motherfuckin' **bear** , you freak_), Dean kind of out of the blue turned up with what obviously was professional stuff. Stolen or not - Sam's gratitude for the items was endless at that time. Not spoken out loud, no (Dean isn't a fan of sappy words), but Sam knows one or two ways of using his mouth in a way Dean won't complain about.

If Dean stocked up while Sam was away, hoping his little brother would return eventually? That they could have this again, be this close again? Or maybe he got it when he was sure of all this. Or he used it with other people. Sam doesn't exactly mind. None of his business. What counts is that _he's_ got his ass in the air now, that it's _his_ arms bound behind his back, _his_ lungs wrestling for air, _his_ sweat clinging to Dean's palms.

There's wonder about whether Dean intended to get Sam's cock stuck between his thighs this awkwardly as he fastened those, too, 'cause it's kind of just as amazing as it is teasing the brains out of Sam. Sam tries to remember to ask later. Later is always good. Now that there's a later again, he'll take it.


End file.
